Enduring Faith
by AlleyKat459
Summary: With the Uchiha and Senju in a constant state of war, both clans are desperate. But are either as desperate as the stubbornness of one lost little girl? AU. MadaraxOC IzunaxOC Hints of m/m, nothing explicit in that regard. Adult themes and such.


_**Enduring Faith**_

**AN: Upon reading this story, some of you will claim that it was stolen from the previous author where it was named "Scroll of Divinity". This is not so. I read what was posted of "Scroll of Divinity" and very much appreciated the idea that the author was attempting to pen. As it is, the previous author has since given up the endeavor. I did request her permission to use her idea and write the story as I saw fit, keeping some of the ideas she introduced and changing others. I am still in contact with her and will consult her about major story plot points and the development of the characters she originally introduced. The names will be changed, but the general idea will be the same. On another note, this story is inspired by Disney's **_**Mulan**_** and is set during the period where the Senju and Uchiha clans were warring. The armies will be presented as standing, marching, pike-wielding armies, not droves of ninja running around. This story will not be canon. This story will be AU. The characters of Masashi Kishimoto will be presented in a light of interpretation from me and the original author. Reviews and suggestions will be welcome. Flames will be ignored. **

Chapter One

_Say a Prayer_

The desert was hot, of course, but _this _heat wasn't something Uchiha Izuna was prepared to deal with. Men were fainting left and right, frothing at the mouth and begging for mercy at the hands of their Uchiha masters. Izuna was used to suffering, particularly being the cause of it, but he wasn't used to _his own army_ being the one to ask for mercy. The Uchiha had pressed well over 30 other clans into service, building up an infinite army to throw at the Senju, who were no doubt doing the same. All the clans that the Uchiha could find that weren't already allied with Senju had been recruited from the desert two years before…before this nefarious drought and damnable heat wave.

So why where they here now?

All the commanding officers, cousins and second cousins and branch family members, wanted to know and turned their accusing eyes at Izuna. Of course they looked to blame him, but only because they were too cowardly to ask the accusatory question to the one who actually gave the order…and Izuna being the only one _he_ would listen to, they pressed him to talk to his brother and get them out of this oven. Well…_pressed_ would be too mild a way of putting it…_yelledscreamedthreatened…_but it is manner of description, nevertheless.

The weather wasn't the source of the heat that Izuna was writhing under…it was between the rest of his clan aggravatedly asking him to save them, and his esteemed older brother, who seemed determined to burn them all with more than just fire.

…

"Are you even listening to me? The medics _cannot keep up_."

Izuna dragged his narrowed eyes away from the tent his brother currently occupied and returned to the shrill woman wringing her hands before him. The medics couldn't keep up. Of course they couldn't. What could Izuna expect from and bunch of liabilities that ended up on their backs more than half the time anyway?

Izuna grimaced and the usually demure, faintly blonde woman immediately lowered her eyes. The heat caused her to forget her place, an offense that would normally be punished severely beings how she wasn't even Uchiha. But Izuna was too hot to reprimand anyone at the moment.

"We have more than seven medics per contingent…how is that not keeping up?" His question came out slow and sticky, as if he had cotton plying itself against his tongue and palate.

Slightly surprised and more than terrified at her outburst and his lack of anger, the woman hesitantly explained, "We're missing the head nurses from contingents one, two, and three…they are the most experienced with the symptoms of the desert."

Izuna gritted his teeth against his oncoming headache at the realization of where the women where. They had been picked up in the River Country along the border, just before the army had passed entirely into the desert. They often dealt with straggling and lost victims of the unforgiving sands and so Madara had ordered that they be picked up into the medical units…but only the women, of course. They had the most promising…_assets._

The woman's eyes flickered to Madara's tent and then back to Izuna, who nearly scared her into screaming when he waved his hand to dismiss her. The movement was so tense, she was sure he was going to hit her. She quickly and gracelessly bowed at the waist and scurried back to the pen of men who were crying and begging for water. Izuna popped each of the knuckles on his right hand before finally deciding to turn and stoop back into his tent. As the heavy flap waved back into place, Izuna stood and shook the shirtless desert boy awake that had been snoozing against one of the structural poles of the tent.

The boy snapped awake and looked up at Izuna with wide, dirty brown eyes that held admiration and fear in their depths for reasons that only Izuna's well-pressed bed linens could understand.

"Fetch him."

The boy's chest contracted and felt his throat swell up in fear. Izuna registered this and quickly turned his attention to the low table and silk cushions in the middle of the tent, kneeling on the latter to pour out two cups of tea.

At this dismissal, the boy crept out slowly, feeling the tent flap scrape across his welted and whipped back with a dread that it may be the last thing he ever felt. He kneeled outside the tent for a moment, his tan hands buried in the sand beneath him, his blood pounding in his young ears, his breaths echoing in his chest.

_Fetch him._

Like it was a simple task akin to picking berries or watering the horses…the boy bit his lip and shook his head. If he wanted to remain in the good graces (and tent) of Master Izuna, then he shouldn't dawdle. Master Izuna would protect him…right?

The boy pushed himself up on unsure limbs and dragged his feet to the neighboring tent, stopping just outside the flap as a wave of _man_ hit him. The boy was familiar enough with this sort of smell, having smelled it on Master Izuna so many times, but where Master Izuna was gentle and comforting, _this_ smell was downright demanding, scathing…full of intent authority. Clenching one fist at his side, he pushed the flap inward, slowly, his active hand trembling. Not hearing any protests, he quickly squirmed in past the flap and was immediately plunged into darkness.

Master Izuna's tent was relatively bright, only using the necessary canvassing to block out a decent amount of light. But this…this was a suffocating _mausoleum_…or that was the impression the boy had, anyway. Pelts of varying animals had been hung all along the proper structures of the tent, adding another impenetrable layer to the darkness and heat that enveloped it. He heard movement before he could see it, his eyes desperately trying to adjust to the light change out of fear and desperation. Not that he could dodge Lord Madara's hits if he wanted to, but he could at least brace himself if he could see it coming.

After he saw bright white, tingly spots, the boy realized that had been holding his breath and had had his eyes shut. Upon opening them, the boy breathed a sigh of relief upon noticing the lack of movement amongst the tangle of white limbs that lay buried underneath the lush skins and pelts on the floor. His joy was short lived, however and he quickly bit his tongue when, rising from the pile, emerged a broad white body topped with a mane of black, seemingly immaculate in both presence and movement what with the darkness and the fluidity of his languid demeanor. The mane inclined his way, shifting slightly to reveal a dark eye that beheld a blankly amused expression.

The boy quickly averted his gaze and stammered something about Master Izuna. There was a short, derisive snort from the pile and the rest of the being arose, causing the limbs that had previously surrounded him to mew quietly and adjust themselves to the now empty space that lay between them. The boy kept his gaze transfixed to the floor, his face burning with embarrassment at the sight of the women. He had never seen a woman's body before and was quite ashamed at the feelings that their mewling provoked in him…feelings that should only be reserved for Master Izuna.

The rustling of fabric designated that Lord Madara was at least clothed and so the boy jumped to the tent flap and held it open for the larger being. Without acknowledgement, the boy ran to Master Izuna's tent and held the flap open for his Lord, who stooped slightly inside and let the flap fall closed behind him.

Izuna didn't look up from his tea cup when he heard Madara enter, he merely gestured to the seat across from him. He could readily _feel_ the argument that was welling up inside Madara…so Izuna surmised Madara knew why Izuna had him called. Madara dropped himself unceremoniously onto the silk cushion and leveled a gaze at Izuna over his tea cup.

"You summoned?" The question was sardonic and grating and Izuna knew he would pay for summoning his brother like a dog later.

Izuna placed his tea cup on the table and said tonelessly, "The nurses can't do their jobs if you're constantly attempting to satisfy your carnal instincts with them."

Madara smirked and leaned back on one hand, his coarse hair bristling against the rough linen of his shirt. "You think so?"

Izuna fought the urge to hit his brother and opted for picking up his tea cup again. "Yes. I do." Izuna studied Madara's face for any sign of anger or irritation and, upon finding nothing but moderate amusement, he pressed on, "Of course, it wouldn't be a problem if we weren't here in the first place."

And there it was; a spark. Izuna had hit on something, but it wasn't anger. Madara reached forward and grabbed his own teacup, taking a sip and never breaking eye contact with Izuna. Izuna waited patiently as Madara swirled the tea around in his cup, watching the leaves spin as madly as his head did when he was this excited. But just what the hell could Madara be excited about? Oh no…

Izuna stammered at the thought, nausea rising in his throat. Madara caught his hesitation and his smirk lengthened just a little. "Something on your mind, little brother?"

"You didn't…didn't…_choose_ one, did you?" Izuna dropped his eyes to the table; the disgracefulness of the idea was simply overwhelming. His brother did stupid things, yes, but would he really—

"Choose what?" Asked Madara, a breath of irritation tingeing his words. The amused gleam had left his eyes at this point.

"One of those…to give you a _son_?" At the word **son**, both Madara and Izuna's eyes locked and Izuna knew immediately he was wrong. Madara's humming-baritone laughter that erupted afterward reinforced the fact that Izuna was very wrong.

"Are you serious, little brother? A son? From one of _them_?" Madara shook his head, a sarcastic smile wrapped around his tea cup.

Izuna cleared his throat and said, "Well, you did have us march back out here…I thought maybe you saw something you had liked the first time through."

Madara shook his head and set his empty cup down on the table, a hint of an almost genuine smile still on his face. "No, little brother. I'm not foolish enough to bring the whole army with me to pick up a bride in the middle of the desert. And especially not one of such distasteful blood as _them_." Izuna eyed his brother warily, not completely assuaged by his brother's logic. Madara did a lot of things the elders didn't like and Izuna wouldn't have put it past him to marry outside of the clan.

Madara noted Izuna's look and the sardonic smirk came back in full force. "Just because I don't take to little boys doesn't mean I'm actively looking to spawn one of my own."

Izuna scowled, his pride slightly stung. The taking of the "little boys" as Madara had termed it was practiced for the very reason why Izuna worried about Madara taking to all those women…there's no possibly way to disgrace the blood if no child can come of it.

"The why are we out here, Madara? The Senju are clear across the map and you have us…" but Izuna's raised voice trailed off at the impatient but permanently amused look his brother held.

"The Senju are out here too, little brother. Hashirama is looking for the same thing I am."

Izuna leaned back on his haunches, confusion peppering his brow. The Senju were after something? Madara was willing to race across the desert to beat the Senju to what?

Madara sat up right and gestured to the tent flap. "Do you know what's just to the north of us, little brother?"

Izuna was convinced it was a trick question and so opted not to answer.

Madara smiled and said, "Exactly. Nothing. According to the maps, anyway. There's just desert and hills and nothing."

Izuna bit his cheek. Was Madara really saying that they followed the Senju way the hell out here just to assuage Madara's paranoia?

Madara crossed his arms and looked at Izuna expectantly, obviously waiting for him to piece things together. Izuna knew of a mountain chain than ran just to the north of them, but it was more desolate than the desert, peculiarly in a constant torrent of blizzards and snow…in the middle of the desert. No one had mapped the ranges because no one could get though the treacherous foothills…wind rolled down the mountain at such speeds that it would send men flying…so whatever it was, it was likely atop those mountains. But what would…

Izuna looked back up at Madara, slightly startled. Would Hashirama really be so desperate as to call on _that clan_?

"So now you see, little brother, why we need to be here."

Izuna shook his head violently. "_**No, Madara.**_"

Madara quirked an eyebrow at this small act of defiance.

"We can't. The elders—"

"Are old and have narrow understandings of what's at stake." Madara crossed his arms and lowered his chin, a serious expression presiding over his face, akin to a teacher giving a lesson. "If the Senju are successful at recruiting them, which they just might be on the principle that they aren't Uchiha, then the next decade of war will be more than a living hell. But if we manage to recruit them, we have nothing to worry about. They won't secure our victory, but they'll definitely secure the Senju's."

Izuna shook his head again. "It's impossible, Madara. They won't' accept anything from us."

Madara snorted and said, "I didn't plan on offering anything. They serve us, or they die."

Izuna rolled his eyes, a look of disbelief finally landing on Madara. "You can't convince them with that, they're too proud. The won't do anything we say."

"I'm well aware of this, little brother. We don't need all of them, just one."

Izuna looked at him curiously, a gist of Madara's plan sweeping across his mind.

"Just one? You're sure you can convince him?"

Madara chuckled and said, "It won't be difficult since he'll be the last man standing."

Izuna didn't have any clear idea as what his brother was talking about, but he had a muddled perception…Madara, or any Uchiha for that matter, wouldn't be able to convince that entire clan to join them…but just one of them…that seemed possible.

Izuna looked at his brother with an expression of fear and admiration that only the events of the next few months would ever allow him to understand.


End file.
